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Are the Holidays the ‘Most Dangerous Time of Year’ for Relapse?

Navigating the holidays in a healthy way means admitting some of the things I enjoy most about Christmas are actually bad for me.

Sometimes I feel like Christmas is a conspiracy to test my recovery. The parties that interfere with my sleep schedule, the baked goods promising a sugar high (and crash), the alcohol that has the same effect, the spending spree that goes with gift giving: they all threaten my wellness. It’s the perfect recipe for hypomania.

Other years those same things trigger my depression and I find myself weeping while I wrap up gifts. It feels like I’m on the outside of a snow globe looking in. All the magic is trapped inside and the only connection I have to it are the greasy fingerprints I leave behind on the glass. The “most wonderful time of the year” seems to be the most dangerous for relapse.

Clearly, the holidays have a knack for amplifying whatever state I’m in.

Yet if someone were to suggest the following in mid-April, I would howl with laughter: “Lynda, for the next two to three weeks I want you to over-schedule your calendar with parties, family gatherings, volunteering, baking, attending/organizing children’s recitals, shopping, wrapping gifts, decorating, and writing letters to people you haven’t managed to stay in touch with. You will be staying up late, cramming warm stuffing into a still partially frozen bird that may give your entire family food poisoning, and drinking raw eggs from a punch bowl. You will also have to drink alcohol because your guests brought wine, and they will want to toast you, and it would be terribly rude not to raise your glass. You will spend lots of time with people you don’t normally spend time with and if you don’t have someone special in your life, you may need to find a stranger to kiss. Everyone is doing it, and every minute should feel magical.”

Put that same nonsense before me in December and give it a jolly, pipe-smoking, sleigh-riding ambassador and suddenly I’m all over it.

Sometimes the problem with the spirit of the season is that it encourages magical thinking. My checking account won’t balance itself and I may sleep a long time when I’m dead, but that won’t prevent the episode that’s likely to arise from a disruption in my routine.

I’m not “grinching out” when I decline invitations, turn down your shortbread, leave the party early, or refuse a refill. I’m protecting something that’s precious to me. I’m eager to celebrate too, but if I keep saying yes when I ought to say no, it won’t be long before I’m back on the outside of the snow globe, tapping the glass, trying to find my way back in.

I grew up in a lovely, small community where Christmas was celebrated with a certain degree of sameness between families—one part manger, and one part pagan Christmas tree. It never occurred to me that those two things might be at odds, or that I had other options.

So it’s not surprising that I took it hard when there was a falling out in my family and some of the Christmas traditions fell away with it. Moving to a city and being exposed to diversity reminded me that December 25 is just another day for many people, and that others come from mixed traditions and celebrate in a way which reflects that.

Realizing this liberated me from my own rigid expectations. I learned that Christmas doesn’t require the same consistency as my recovery. Expecting it to look the same each year was a source of misery. Actually, expectations have a way for ruining most good things.

Since this revelation, I have spent the holidays with family, with strangers, on the beach, and one year I turned down dinner invitations so I could stay home and watch a Big Bang Theory marathon from the comfort of my couch. I was working in retail, scheduled for six am to set up the boxing day sale, and I’d been listening to Christmas music since the day after Halloween. I was “peopled-out” and “Christmased-out.” I chose to be alone on Christmas and it was exactly what I needed.

Over the years, bipolar has given me a few gifts. One of them is an appreciation for the importance of resting when you’re tired, eating when you’re hungry, and saying no when you feel yourself reaching your limit. Celebrating the holidays shouldn’t come at the expense of these basics of self-care. If you do one thing this season, give yourself the gift of boundaries. It’s a present you can’t get from anyone else.

Learn more:
When Bipolar Depression ‘Attacks’ My Wallet: How to Control Online Shopping When Depressed
The Dos and Don’ts of Mastering Your Hypomania ‘Dragon’

The post Are the Holidays the ‘Most Dangerous Time of Year’ for Relapse? appeared first on bpHope.



This post first appeared on Mania Bipolar Disorder - Bphope, please read the originial post: here

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